The Other Side Of This Life
by MissMontgomery
Summary: With the final outcome of her divorce, an aborted baby, a shattered lovelife and the rest of her leftover baggage, Addison flees to Los Angeles to settle with her new life. A year later, Mark seeks her up again. Oneshot.


**I started this one-shot after rewatching one of the season 3 episodes, the one when Meredith wakes up after drowning and Addison and Mark stands outside her patientroom when she's telling him, "He never felt that way about me" and Mark answers, "I did". I love that scene:)**

**I was in a Maddison mood and that turned out to a story. Or more precise, a one-shot. It's written from Addison's point of view that makes a nice change for me. Normally, when I post on fanfiction I write the normal storytelling way so the writing at present time was fun:)**

**I have to admit, I didn't put too much work into check-reading so you might find some grammar flaws here and there, but I hope it still makes up a decent one-shot.**

**Please tell me what you think, I love your reviews!**

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When I escaped Seattle, I thought leaving the rain would come as a fat perk. Apparently I was wrong all the time, last night's happening is still etched in my head. Always bring in your stuff for the night. Never get a latch on the door. I ended up locking myself out, walking dribbling wet to my office, cursing myself, and everyone, for leaving my umbrella behind in Seattle. And they just walk around, cheerful and whistling, being all zen and L.A. like.

I can adjust, I guess. Leaving the rain is not the reason I ended up here after all. Together with my umbrella, I left my past. I left my ex-husband who's currently being the one to warm up Meredith Grey's bed. I left Mark. The manwhore I aborted the child to. I left Karev. I don't know why I even mention him, he's an intern. Who fell in love with Jane Doe, Ava or Rebecca, pick your choose. The pregnant girl with amnesia. Everything he owns would suit in a box. And we kissed. In the NICU, surrounded by incubated babies. Around the one thing I succeed at. My job. Surgeries. Another thing I left.

I realize I abandoned more than I thought I would. And now I'm alone at the starting line. I'm husband less, boyfriend less, even childless. And I don't get to cut anymore. I pull out the drawer on my desk and clutch the blue shaded patterned surgical cap I've brought with me into numerous OR's. I bring it to my nose and inhale. It's the smell of myself, Addison, mixed with a faint, indefinable hint of surgery.

The door opens and the shape of Naomi appears in the doorway. She lingers there for a minute, before I look up and motion for her to come in. She dumps a stack of papers and a takeaway coffee on my desk, telling me to assist on a procedure. I devour the hot caffeine and place it back on the wood, carefully listening to every medical proclaim.

-

I've changed from my five hundred dollar pencil skirt and crème colored blouse down to the casual scrub set that slacks around my body as we walk into the exam-room where the patient, an infertile woman and her husband are waiting for us to perform miracles. We're going to make a sterile woman pregnant by injecting his sperm into her vagina. We're their last hope to get a baby of their own.

We finish up and leave the assumedly parents to-be in their room. I tug impatiently on the strings of my mask and toss it into the bin before I bore my hands deep into the raspberry colored scrub top pockets. Naomi notices my whimsical behavior and she watches me closely. "Are you okay?" I hear her say after a moment of awkward silence.

"Yeah…" I mutter as I let my arms rest on the small sink in front of me. I watch as the drops of water from my newly rinsed hands dribbles down the silvery steel to disappear in the drain. I give her a short nod. "I'm good. I'm just…That couple makes me think…They've tried for so long, and they're willing to do whatever it takes to have a baby…" I say, then I pause. The last, unspoken sentence swirls painfully in my head. _And I threw my baby away._

The silence falls again before I speak up, "Good people deserves good things"

"And you don't?" She asks, as if she somehow can read my inner thoughts.

"I had my chance" I answer as nonchalantly as only possible, followed by a slack shoulder contraction. "I blew it"

And I instantly know I couldn't be more right. It was my choice. I chose abortion. I chose death before life. I'm the reason there's no baby and I'm the blame if there should be such thing as guilt. I shake my head to let the sepulchral thoughts spring out of my head. Normally it doesn't bother me. I think I did the right thing. I prevented the baby from having a crappy life. He, or she, would probably be born with two heads. And missing limbs. And latent man whore tendencies that would spring out into full blossom in the teenage years. Montgomery Sloan…A totally wrong set of last names. The kid would be mocked in school and he or she would end up as a drop out. I'm sure. The baby wouldn't be happy. I did the right thing. And I'm okay with it. Except from days like these, which, I'm sure, will appear once a year to haunt me for the rest of my life. This day, two weeks more or less, would have been my baby's first birthday. It stings, thinking about it. No less than last year, when I was to be found in Seattle, mourning over the dead baby's due date with a bone dry cappuchino and a black haired orthopedic as closest support system.

Naomi's voice breaks the icy silence and I offer her a look while she does. "I'm not this 'words of wisdom woman', you know that Addison, but people make mistakes…"

"Yeah, I know that…" Involuntarily I turn melancholic and my emotions springs out with my slightly cracked voice, "But I can't talk about it today because today I want to fall into pieces in a corner and cry my eyes dry but I cannot do that because I'm a surgeon and I have patients waiting. Patients who trust me, who have faith in me and my surgical profession. So I can't let my feelings tear me apart. Not today" The disclose spills from my lips as I rub the soap violently into my hands.

The door slams open and our surfboy receptionist peek his head through the door, gaining Naomi's attention for another patient. She looks at me, her eyes swollen up with sympathy, I can tell. I nod, as to reassure I'm fine, despite the fact that I'm anything but, and I wave her out. They disappear, my best friend in her raspberry scrubs along with surfboy, who's actually a midwife, in his indigo ones and I'm left in the room. There's plenty of time to bring my tears into a floody release, free corners to fall on my knees and break down.

And yet I don't.

I straighten up my position, run my hands over the natty scrub top and I leave.

-

Little I knew he had been driving for seventeen hours until he showed up at my door. His leather jacket was rumbled and he had small, black circles beneath his eyes, a consequence from the lack of sleep and the fact that he outdid the whole route with only two breaks and one shot of caffeine in his system.

But he's Mark and Mark does stupid things and suddenly he was there, dripping wet from the heavy pitter-patting rain, smelling gasoline and old sweat.

Right on cue and without a word, I step aside, offering him a free entrance to my house. I notice he's without baggage and he confirms so himself. A set of keys, a phone and a wallet being the only items he drops at the desk in my small hallway. I crinkle my nose at the sharp smell and lead him towards the bathroom while we exchange a modest number of words. Closing the bathroom door behind me, I stand still for a moment, not able to prevent my heart for skipping a few beats excitedly. Mark is here. He drove for seventeen hours to see me again. I swirl around on my heel, slipping inside my bedroom as I pull out the large closet of mine. I think I have one of his t-shirts somewhere…I never really got rid of it, did I?

-

"You thought I forgot" He points out as we sit at the terrace on the backside of my house, staring into the ruby sunset in front of us as fresh waves swells upon the sandy beach. My fingers grip around the stem on the wineglass and my eyes lingers on the surface of the deep red, violet shaded content. I take a sip and gulp in down immediately. Mark jerks his head upwards, his masterly motions silently demanding an answer from me.

"Why shouldn't I?" I reply bluntly as my gaze are drawn to the vision in my front, a closely embraced couple patrolling the beachside with their pet, a black, ruffled dog sprinting inches ahead from their feet, its tiny paws tracing prints in the sand as he runs off.

My eyes weighs endearingly over the seemingly happy trio. The man picks up a ball that lies in the golden sand and he prostrates his hand, flinging the ball so it bounces and crashes in the sand a distance away. The dog puts on his advances and unfolds his legs, high-speeding towards his toy. From my place I can see his wide smile and he throws an arm around the blonde woman's shoulder. She place a quick kiss on his cheek while clutching her espadrilles in her hands as they walk, hand in hand, so relaxed, so romantic, so nauseously perfect, barefoot along the sandy line. My mind starts to stir, all kind of thoughts revolving around a happily ever after spinning at record speed, a poor excuse of a substitute to the awkward silence between Mark and I.

Suddenly his voice is back, snapping me off guard. "I would never forget"

I change position in my chair and pull my knees up in front of my chest, a childlike posture I still hold when I get tensed and nervous and shocked. Or simply overwhelmed.

Another overdraft of silence drags on while I analyze his every word. He wouldn't have time to reflect over our hijacked past while jamming in and out of a random woman's vagina. Because that's who Mark Sloan is and that's what Mark Sloan does. He's a manwhore and that makes him anything but a family guy.

"I might have kept the baby if you didn't sleep with Charlene" I hear myself say, swallowing and forcing away the lump in my throat while I reach for the wineglass. The content finds my lips before I let it purl down my throat, through my veins, the warmth feeling spreading inside every cell in my body, smug and softly calming my frayed nerves.

"No, Addison, you wouldn't. You know that" His baritone voice lingers in the air again and I offer him a quick, puzzled look.

"I would make a terrible father. We both know that" He continues, "That was just an excuse for you to have an abortion without talking to me about it."

"I didn't want an abortion, Mark" I raise my voice slightly, "I wanted a baby. I just didn't want a baby with you…"

"And if I had stayed faithful to you, I would've been daddy material?" He parries honestly and I shake my head in despair and frustration. "I don't know" I inhale sharply, "I don't know! I don't know what I would do and I don't know what kind of role model you would be. We're complicated and I don't know if we would ever figure it out" My body slips up from the chair and I stroll to the terrace's edge to let my hands grip around the surrounding parapet. My knuckles turn white as my fingers tighten hard around the rail while my suddenly vigilant mind takes mental spins and loops around Mark's presence.

"Why are you here?" I manage to say, my eyes wandering at the abandoned beach in front of me. "You never wanted kids so why are you here? Why, on this exact day, are you here?"

He clears his throat, loud enough for me to hear and he stands up. With my eyes still glued to the azure water I can still feel his body appearing behind mine. He takes a small turn to the side and rests his back against the rail, getting a better look at my countenance. I let a hand up to guard my face from his sight as I pretend to rub my temporal bone, like I attempt to eliminate a sudden headache. Relieved, I observe his eyes drift to the water and I give up trying to disguise my troubled feelings.

"If you'd given me a chance…" He starts and I immediately shake my head in dismiss for him to even try to disclose the topic again.

"It's over Mark. There's nothing to talk about"

He seems to chance his tactics because in the next moment he let a light hand stroke across my porcelain cheek as a pair of tender eyes meets my sight. "I came for you. I knew this day would be hard for you and I knew I would feel miserable. Let's be miserable together" He calmly suggests as another cause of sincere words spills from his mouth. "If you'd kept the baby I would have tried…I would have tried to do everything right the 'daddy way'," He pauses, "But I guess I won't get the chance to."

"No" I say as I absently play with my fingers, "You won't. At least not with me" I unsuccessfully try to blow a joke, mocking the manwhore in him with my sardonic annotation.

"I don't want a kid just to have a kid" Mark is quick with his reply. He swallows as a soulbriefing statement catches me. "I could have one with you because I only want you. I want you, Addison" His voice is firmer and he looks at me as he pronounces the every word. "I miss you and I couldn't let you suffer on your own this day. I need you back in my life. Seattle is not for me, especially when you're not there. After you left I realize I was all alone. The chief won't let me be chief…Derek still doesn't talk to me unless there's a medical resurrection forcing him to. He's with Burke now…"

"He's with Burke?" I raise my brows playfully as he drop a quick look at me, then let his gaze fall to the floor again. "He's friends with Burke now" He adjusts, "And apparently I'm the one left out from their boy's club…The nurses hates me…They formed a club against me…" I give him a sympathetic look, smiling cheekily as I pout dramatically.

"It's not funny" His voice is serious as can be. "I'm alone in that town…I don't have anyone…" I can hear his voice carries parts of his fractured pride, "I wake up, go to work, perform surgeries, have sex with a random girl picked up at Joe's I can never remember the name on, I eat and I fall asleep. That's what I do up there. I want you and you're here, starting a new life without me…" His pigeon blue eyes looks up, the small glint in them sparkles hopeful.

"Mark…You and I would never work out…"

"We didn't try hard enough…"

"I sacrificed my marriage for you. We were never a normal couple"

"We don't have to be 'a normal couple'" He quotes me defensively, "I'm a flaw. I don't want things complicated. It want it straight and easy. Screw the proposals and the marriages and the lifetime promises. I don't want any of that. I just want…you…"

"No…I don't know…" My voice wavers as shake my head gently, "We can't try again…"

"I went sixty days without sex for you, Addison. Sixty days. I did it for you. If that doesn't show how much I love you, I don't know" He remarks with a small grin, and after careful consideration, I join in. "Yeah…" I agree, "You did…"

Again, he looks at me and this time his body follows. He's heat is close to mine and I have to take a step backwards, just to regain my composure. He puts up a small smile as he let his hand depart a loose strand of red hair from my face and my spine shiver sweetly in response.

Every rational sense in my head seems to be working on dysfunction. My left brain half that's the one to compose logical and advanced thinking, shuts down. What am I doing? Mark and I are not a match. We don't make sense.

We're opposites. We're north and south. We're on the other side of each other's worlds. Mark and I are not the same. And we'll never be.

And yet we kiss.


End file.
